Crazy For You
by rinabina
Summary: It all starts off with a little party at the Three Broomsticks. Throw in a bit of slow music, a little pining Hermione, and a little brave Ron. The best night of Hermione's life could also turn out to be her worst. rr!


Disclaimer: All belongs to JK Rowling. The song Crazy for You belongs to Madonna.

A/N: I started this ages ago, and never finished it, but I really like it and I have to finish it before the book comes out. Full or Ron and Hermione goodness, told from her pov, please read and review and most of all enjoy!

Crazy For You

As soon as the music echoed off the muffled wooden walls of the Three Broomsticks, Hermione frowned. It couldn't _just_ be a party with music like that. She looked over to where the music was coming from; an old muggle wireless that Madame Rosmerta had acquired somehow. It sat on a stool, looking small and pathetic compared to anything magical, yet for some reason, the bar owner had enjoyed it thoroughly, and so did Lavender and Parvati. Hermione could see them now, giggling and looking very pleased with themselves, as they found a station that played their favorite kind of music.

Sappy, slow, love songs.

She scowled at her half emptied bottle of butterbeer and looked the other direction, towards the window. The corners of the window panes were catching the steadily drifting snow, which shone blue in the moonlight. Carolers were walking the streets, but from inside you could not hear them, and Hermione had never wanted anything more.

The professors, although refusing to host another Yule Ball, allowed a special trip to Hogsmeade on Christmas day to enjoy a little party at the Three Broom Sticks. Of course, on the chilly walk into town, it had sounded like a grand idea, but now it was just ridiculous. If she had known _this_ was going to happen, she wouldn't have come at all.

Hermione looked around the room again, unsurprisingly finding girls and boys rushing about, trying not to be the only wallflower. Lavender had settled comfortably into the arms of Seamus, her new boyfriend, and Parvati was making a lewd scene with Justin Finch-Fletchly in the corner of the pub.

Pursing her lips, she looked back to her butterbeer. Ginny's empty bottle was on the napkin next to hers, deserted as she had hurried to the loo. Ginny was now pulling Neville off his seat and onto the dance floor, laughing, and Hermione felt completely deserted.

She plucked a few stray pieces of lint off her new plum colored jumper. Her parents had sent it to her for Christmas that morning. _"It's the latest fashion in London,"_ they'd written in her card. It had a low, scooped neckline, and puffy cap sleeves, and Hermione liked it very much, yet no one else had seemed to notice. She pushed the cap of her butterbeer with her fingernail and began to reason why she was so offended.

Well, first off, no one would ask her to dance anyway, (obviously, who was there?) and she'd spend the entire time feeling ugly and inadequate (not that she didn't at all times). Then, of course, there was the fact that she would be made fun of tomorrow by Ron Weasley (and probably Malfoy too), who always managed to sneak his way into the private business of her love life. This brought her to the tiny echo of a voice, which was her own, shouting something very loudly and very much along the lines of, "Ask me to the ball next time Ron, because I fancy you!" Which, she did, and would until he started ignoring her, stopped opening doors for her, or until he freckles disappeared entirely, which wouldn't make much of a difference because she was completely enamored with every part of him; including his hair, nose, ears, mouth and _rump_ for Merlin's sake!

She sighed heavily and flicked the butterbeer cap off the counter.

And now, there she was sitting alone at a bar, yelling at herself, _to_ herself while a slow song way playing perfectly in the background and Ron Weasley was staring at her.

…

She blinked.

He _what_?

After reminding herself to breathe normal, and to stop feeling ill, she carefully moved her eyes just to the left, so she could barely see his face in the corner of her eye. To Ron, she was staring at Madame Rosmerta, who was discussing the wireless energetically with Dumbledore, but _really_ she could see his entire face turned towards her direction!

Hermione swallowed hard. There was no possible way this was happening. She chanced a real look, just to be sure.

Instantly her heart sank. He was gone.

Gone? She hadn't even been sure if he really _was_ looking at her. Lingering false hope was as painful as a Doxy bite. She looked all around for him, just _hoping_, that maybe he was actually admiring her and her new _en vogue_ jumper.

On her glance around the room she spotted Lavender and Seamus dancing even closer still, Ginny and Neville chatting happily, and passed Harry sitting all alone. She really _should_ go keep him company…but first she had to know! Perhaps after…yes, after she would sit with Harry.

After what?

She sighed angrily. What should she expect from Ron, who had the romantic capacity of a wand tip? As far as she knew Ron was wrapped up in physical appearances, and in that case she must _really_ be looking smashing tonight, if she'd attracted his gaze.

If she had attracted it at all, that is.

Hermione looked more frantically as the song progressed to the second verse. Where was he? Why was he hiding? She saw Parvati kissing Justin grotesquely and instantly felt sour with panic. Perhaps Ron had really been staring at someone behind her, and had escaped to snog her outside in the lovely fresh layer of snow.

The prat! He'd led her on again! The nerve of that boorish imp! Snagging some saucy, tartlet of a seventh year and dragging her outside so she could steal Hermione's dream of a kiss! She couldn't _believe _him! She was so worked up she was going to have a conniption, and there he was SNOGGING some complete stranger? She had enough nerve go out there and—

"Hermione?"

Her mouth dropped open and she nearly choked on her own saliva. He was here…right next to her, asking her name as if it was the most beautiful word he had ever heard.

She adored him!

Slowly, Hermione swiveled on her stool to face him. He was wearing that lovely muggle button down shirt she had bought him under the form fitting navy jumper Ginny had made him for Christmas. Lucky for him, his sister knew his favorite color, and how to knit quite expertly. He looked quite handsome.

She smiled, pleased to see his cheeks flushed slightly. "Hi," she said simply, trying to sound normal.

He smiled back and drummed his fingers awkwardly on the bar. Something was going on…

Her palms grew sweaty. Oh for heaven's sake, she was sweating?

Ron stood there, frozen for a moment, looking severely dashing and attractive. He lifted a freckly fist and ran his fingers through his copper hair. "Okay," he breathed out as he let his hand drop back to the bar.

"Okay…" she repeated slowly.

"Wanna dance?"

It all came out in a dry sort of huff. Hermione _heard_ it, but she wasn't positive. Her imagination was capable of some pretty convincing hallucinations when it came to Ron. Besides, if it _was_ what she hoped, it wouldn't hurt to hear it again, would it?

"What did you say, Ron?"

He knew she had heard him and he rolled his eyes, flushing significantly. Then, thinking better of himself, he grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. "We're dancing," Ron said proudly, with a grin. He was still blushing as they reached the dance floor, and he instantly slid an arm around her back.

Hermione was completely ecstatic, and she doubted that she any word in the entire English language could describe her happiness at the moment. He gently took her hand and they started swaying slowly to the tune. She didn't trust her voice by any means, and could only smile like an idiot up at Ron Weasley who looked _so_ much better than she did. Her hair, although friendly towards her earlier when they'd left the castle, had now gone awry with the humidity and bustle of the room. She must look like Trelawney.

"You look really nice," Ron said softly from above her, and she realized he had been looking at her the whole time. She took her eyes from the v-neck of his jumper that had subconsciously stolen her eye.

"Thank you, Ron," she said bashfully. She could feel the heat radiating from her body. He had just said she looked nice! The tiny Hermione inside her hand was dancing around madly. "You look very handsome yourself," she added, looking up at him. "I never told you earlier."

It was hard to believe they had all walked to the pub a few hours ago. It hadn't been at all awkward then, as they marched through the blanket of snow falling from the clouded sky. In fact, it she hadn't fallen into conversation with Ginny at the bar, she never would have been sitting all alone. She would have been sitting next to him at their table when the song came on. Would he have asked her then? Would it be this…different between them? The fact that he had even _asked_ her puzzled her the most. Was it a dare? Did he really mean it?

"Hermione?"

His voice pulled her back from her thoughts again. She smiled at him.

"Sorry," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"Is everything okay?" Ron paused. "Is _this_ okay?"

Hermione smile widened. "Yes, it's more than okay."

When the words left her lips she hid her face at once. He could she just _say_ that?

"You should know, then," he said, leaning close to her ear, "that I had to race at least three blokes coming your way."

Her eyes widened and she looked back at him. "Stop making jokes!" she said, refusing to believe him. "That's not very nice."

Ron laughed. "I'm telling the truth. That Corner kid who violated my sister—"

"He did not!"

"Hush you, I'm trying to list. Let's see, well there was the little Creevy, the one without the camera."

"Dennis."

He nodded and looked ever her head at the rest of the students. "Oh yeah, Ernie nearly broke my rib before I got to you."

Hermione sighed and hid a laugh. "Ron, you don't have to make me feel worse for sitting all alone." Yet, as she spoke she could see little Dennis Creevy looking put out, and very sad as he caught her eye through the crowd of dancing students. She looked back up at him.

He was already smiling when she met his gaze. "I was keeping your seat warm, you know," Ron said warmly as he led her through the throng of people dancing slowly. "You could have come back."

She beamed up at him. "I know." The pressure of his fingers on her spine was doing a number on her brain. She could hardly form a sentence. She lowered her head once again, nose brushing the soft wool of his sweater. His arm closed more around her, pulling her closer as the number of dancing couples increased. She could smell him from this close. Bits of the Burrow and hints of cologne tickled her nose and she smiled into his chest.

Yet, no sooner had she settled into their dance that the song faded into silence. Hermione looked up at him, hopefully, praying that perhaps he'd want to dance for one more song. His eyebrows knit together and he scowled at the wireless. "What!" Ron looked around. "That's it? Bugger!"

Hermione didn't want to let go. It was so warm and _comfortable_. She had never dreamed it would be this pleasant to hold Ron so close. To her pleasure, however, his arm was still around her, even though his hand was motioning madly to the girls gathered around the tiny radio.

There was an uproar of giggles, and to her relief, another song came on. Hermione knew the song this time, however. Her mother used to hum the tune when she swept the floor when Hermione was a little girl.

She looked up at Ron hopefully, but he had already taken her hand. "That's better," he said, starting to move her around again. She bit her lip and pressed her forehead to his shoulder. This couldn't possibly be real…

She could hear the lyrics from where they stood, humming softly over the heads of the students. "_Swaying room as the music starts, strangers making the most of the dark."_

Hermione was certainly glad Ron wasn't a stranger. Dancing with a strangers was so much less…romantic. She adored Ron so much because he _wasn't_ a stranger, because he was her best friend. She smiled at the thought. If this dance turned out to be the only thing that happened between them, she would be happy forever.

"We don't have to dance any more, if you don't want to, that is." Hermione said suddenly, realizing that she was probably forcing him to dance against his will. He was probably just doing it to be nice anyway. She lifted her chin to face him.

Ron looked down at her and tightened his grip on her hand. When had his hands become so soft?

"Are you kidding?" he asked, grinning. "It took enough bullocks to come over here and ask you, I'm getting my gallions worth, if you don't mind the expression."

Hermione laughed. "Why _did_ you ask me anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Some ruddy smart witch told me that if I wanted to dance with someone, I should ask them first, before someone else did."

She beamed up at him. She was smart, wasn't she?

"So I did." Ron grinned at her.

"What do you make of the theory, then?" she asked bravely.

"Brilliant," he said, still smiling.

Hermione blushed and hid her face again. The song played on, getting closer and closer to the end, which also meant the end of dancing with Ron, which had quite possibly been the best experience in her life. Dancing with Viktor wasn't _anything_ like this. Of course, she didn't fancy him the way she fancied Ron Weasley, her best friend whom she knew better than anyone.

The chorus was playing again, and she felt more and more drawn to the song as she listened to the lyrics.

"_What I'm dying to say is that I'm crazy for you, touch me once and you'll know it's true. I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new."_

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Willing her smile to fade off her grinning face.

"What is this song, anyway?" he asked after a moment, making the corners of her mouth tug back into place.

"It's a muggle song, actually," Hermione answered quickly, enjoying being knowledgeable for once this evening.

"Figures," he snorted. "Who's it by?"

"Madonna," she said at once, meeting his eyes. "She's American."

"Double figures," he muttered, then smiled quickly. "Sorry, just because I don't like the song doesn't mean I don't like…well, you know…"

"The company?" she offered, hopefully.

Ron was still smiling. "Yeah, that."

It grew silent again, and awkward. Eventually they turned away. It was reluctant for Hermione, who could spend all day looking at the shapely contours of his handsome face. She felt immensely stupid, however, that she was so nervous about the situation. It was Ron, after all, wasn't it? Everything had always been normal between them, and she'd _always_ fancied him. So why was it changing? Was the possibility that he fancied her in return even possible?

She looked away from the comfort of his navy top, hoping to get her mind off her own thoughts so she could enjoy this phenomenon. In her head she was still dancing like a lunatic, and the thought made her smile.

As she let her attention seek other things, she noticed the stares as they swayed in their infinite circle. Pairs of eyes were gaping, staring, and smiling at the pair of them. What was it? Were they as surprised as she was at Ron? Had they been expecting this for years like she had been hoping for it? Or did she, alas, have a dung bomb in her hair?

The gentle hum of Ron's whisper at her ear made her gasp and shiver at the same time. "Want to go outside?" he asked softly, making her skin break out in gooseflesh.

Suddenly it all became a blur as she nodded. His voice had lulled her into a trace. Why were they going outside again? Why not go sit with Harry, who was probably feeling terribly left out. The staring students, all became a haze as she was dragged through the parting crowd. It was cold outside, she thought as they neared the door. She wanted to stay in, but she knew at that moment, she would have jumped through fire if he'd asked her to.

Hermione felt dazed as he took her hand and pulled her gently out through the jingling door. Their feet crunched on the snowy porch, but all she could think about was his hand in hers. Her breath was beating in tiny clouds before her face and the cold bit into her skin like fangs, yet she was too incredibly happy to care.

She leaned against the sill of the large paned window into the pub. The structure steadied her feet, yet her head was still whirling. Had she really just been pressed against Ron Weasley dancing to Madonna? Hermione blinked several times and looked to where Ron was spreading his arms along the banister of the porch. How could he look so attractive all the time?

"So," he said, smiling, "what do you reckon their problem was?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to recall the recent memory. Why were they out here again? "Who?"

"The people in there," Ron said motioning inside. "They were staring like we were mental or something."

"Oh," she said, shrugging. "I don't know. I didn't like it though."

He nodded. "I know, me neither." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I mean, you think they'd never seen people dancing sensibly."

Nodding, she looked over her shoulder into the pub. The song had changed by now and most of the students had moved back to the seats. The rest were dancing wildly around the wireless. When she turned back Ron was looking at her, half a smile on his face.

"I really like your jumper," he said suddenly, and with a start, she raised both her hands to feel along the neckline. What if she'd been revealing half her bosom the whole time? No _wonder_ he was dancing with her!

To her pleasure, however, everything was in order, except for her large amount of extremely freezing skin. "T-Thanks," she muttered, feeling embarrassed.

It grew steadily silent, except for the creaking of the sign on the road, and a few snorts from horses tied down the way. The flickering lantern light shone on the snow in little golden patches and the whole town looked very festive.

"You must be freezing," Ron said, breaking the quiet. He stood off the railing and moved closer to her. "Do you want to go back in?"

Despite the fact that she was frigid, she couldn't help but wonder if he had just made up an excuse to come nearer to her. No, she suspected she could endure the cold a little longer, if only to keep Ron close.

"Let's stay out here," Hermione answered, smiling. "It's quiet."

"Yeah," he said with a nod, kicking a fallen icicle with the tip of his shoe. "And there's no one out here."

Hermione looked left and right quickly to confirm his statement. Yes…they were alone…

"Listen," Ron blurted suddenly, and rather loudly. Hermione jumped. "I feel like there's something I should get off my chest. Something I've been thinking about."

Hermione gulped and placed her hand over her heart, hoping that it would settle back down to a normal rate. "Oh?" she said, vaguely, although feeling more terrified than she had in nearly a year.

Ron started pacing around the porch. "Lately, I've been noticing how everyone at school has been pairing off, and there's been a lot more snogging in the passageways this year."

Boys were so naive. There had _always_ been kissing in the passageways.

"It seems like everyone is holding hands and giggling in corners, and it just makes me sick, because two days later one of them is crying while the other is off snogging someone new." He stopped before her and took a step closer. "This isn't coming out how I hoped it would, but my point is, I don't want that sort of rubbish to happen to you."

Hermione was taken aback. Exactly what didn't he want her to have? A boyfriend, or a break up? "I beg your pardon?" she asked, feeling slightly offended. "I can't make my own decisions?"

Ron shook his head. "It's not that, Hermione, it's just that I don't want some insensitive bloke coming round and taking advantage of you." He paused and looked into her eyes. The sincerity on his face struck her, and she felt completely drawn to him. "I don't want anyone to hurt you Hermione, because you deserve better than that."

He was amazing.

"You're not just _any_ girl, and I don't want you settling on the first boy that says your pretty."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, I promise you, Viktor didn't do anything—"

"I'm not talking about _him_," he said, with distaste. "Not anyone really, just in the future. I want you to know that I'm looking out for you because…well, I think your special, and I think that any guy who wants to have a go at being your boyfriend should know that."

Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she felt tears sting her eyes. "Oh, Ron…" her voice shook. No one had ever said such nice things to her. "I don't know what to say. T-Thank you." Her brain was screaming at her to tell him that she only wanted him. There wasn't anyone else!

"I reckon," he continued, taking another step forward, "that a bloke should do more than just fancy you."

She looked up at him as he loomed over her, getting nearer and nearer. She licked her lips absently, and pressed them together, doing her best not to gape up at his lovely face.

"What then?" she asked softly as his legs pressed to her knees. She felt a wave of goose pimples raise up along her skin, and her spine tingled.

"I reckon…" he said, voice fading into the night. His hands slid up her arms and he held them tightly. "I reckon…" he said again, starting to lean close.

Her heart was hammering in her chest now, and her whole body was flushed with anticipation. In seconds she would wake up and it would all be a dream. This could never happen to _her_. Perfect stories like this only happened to pretty girls like Lavender Brown. Ron Weasley was a wonderful friend, but she had no idea he could ever treat her as wonderfully as he had that night.

His face was so near hers now and she could see all the freckles along his face. His hands had moved to her shoulders and yet her hands still remained latched tight to the window sill.

"I reckon…they should…" Then, slowly, and in Hermione's opinion, quite expertly, he lowered his head and captured her lips in his own.

Hermione half expected her ears to whistle like firecrackers. She had to stop herself from screaming against his mouth. The softness of his lips and the warmth from his skin made her body burst in flames from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She clamped her eyes shut and reminded herself to keep them _closed_ as he pressed his lips gently against hers.

She felt his hands move from her shoulders, to her neck, slowly moving up to cup her chin. The slid up her jaw and he wove his fingers into her hair, holding her head steady. The fact that he was holding her this way, made her feel so entirely possessed by him that she never wanted anyone to touch her again. As far as she was concerned, Ron had claimed her forever. She felt her knees trembling as she detached her fingers from the wood and slipped her arms around his waist.

Ron's lips slowly moved over hers, and as absurd as it sounded, she could _taste_ him. This, unfortunately, was a concept she had considered before, yet the reality was nothing like she imagined. The whole moment was so…_Ron_ she couldn't even describe it. It was natural, and perfect, and completely normal. He was kissing her more tenderly than she could have imagined and she was entirely shocked when he parted her lips gently with the delicious tip of his tongue.

She gasped through her nose, yet did _not_ object as he deepened the kiss. She let her head fall limp in his hands and clutched for fistfuls of his jumper. What started as a simple kiss was picking up speed and intensity and she would not be surprised if the window behind them was steaming. It was as though they were tumbling down a steep hillside with so much inertia, Hermione didn't know how they would ever be persuaded to stop.

How had they avoided this conclusion for so long? Kissing Ron had to be the most natural experience she had ever known, besides, of course, studying. It was too good to be true. First a dance, then _this_? She had wanted for so long to earn his affection, and now as he kissed her with so much tenderness and _love_, she thought that perhaps she'd had his affection all along. She pulled him closer still with her grip on his sweater and began to kiss him back as best as she could.

A low, nearly inaudible moan vibrated between their lips and it only fueled her more—

"MR. WEASLEY!"

Ron sprung back so quickly, she nearly fell forward. He ran a hand over her swollen lips and met the stern eyes of Professor McGonagall. Her finger was pointed at him as she berated him for violating a student and embarrassing the morality of such an established school. The normal Hermione would have most likely been fighting tears as she braved McGonagall's high pitched and pointed scolding. Yet the Hermione that was sitting on the window sill, dressed in a thin, short sleeve jumper, outside the snow, could not take her eyes away from Ron. She couldn't stop admiring his face…

The face she had just been snogging senseless.

His lovely, defined cheekbones were flushed, not only from embarrassment, but from their energetic kiss that still lingered on her lips. His mouth was parted as he fought for a word, but he pursed his lips eventually, nostrils flaring. Hermione was entirely unsure how she would keep from throwing herself at him each time she saw him.

Slowly he turned his face back to her as McGonagall's voice grew louder. She supposed she was screaming at her now, but all she could think about was Ron's midnight blue eyes that were wide and shining in the moonlight. He wore the same expression as he awaited Hermione's punishment, let alone her reaction.

But his copper eyelashes beat his cheeks steadily as he blinked, and the color was so pretty. His hair was even more gorgeous, looking like melted bronze burning in the lamplight. His mouth was still parted, and she could see his chest heave rapidly, still out of breath. Hermione felt her heart swell. That kiss had been…_amazing_.

Professor McGonagall was becoming quite animated now, as she tried to remind her of the rules and of her manners, yet she still paid no attention.

Ron's eyes had softened, and his mouth was slowly forming a smile. It spread over his face and up to his eyes which were gleaming. It was her favorite kind of smile. The one he gave her when he was remarkably proud of her.

Then, unfortunately, the shrill sound of the Professor's voice began to yank her out of her dream state of mind, and she realized that the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts was addressing her. Hermione turned her head slowly.

Professor McGonagall's face went slack, and her eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Miss _Granger_!"

It was as though a blindfold was lifted from her eyes. The reality of the situation dawned on her and she flinched horribly, covering her mouth with her hands. She leapt to her feet.

What had she _done_?

"I would _never_ have expected this from you. Both of you! Prefects and everything…I don't know what to say except that I am extremely shocked and ashamed at the pair of you!"

Hermione's heart was pounding as she turned to Ron, but the useless git was still beaming at her.

She stared at him pleadingly but she received no comfort and turned, wincing, back to the Professor. To her surprise, however, she was that McGonagall's face had grown significantly _less_ stern and her eyes were oddly misty. The corner of her mouth was twitching and Hermione was nearly positive she was holding back a smile. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I will remove ten points from your house apiece and I sincerely hope that this situation will _not_ arise again. Is that clear?"

Hermione nodded furiously.

"Very well," she said. "Inside, both of you!" She pointed her wand at the door, which had opened with a jingle.

Hermione didn't move until Ron grabbed her hand and heaved her into the pub. McGonagall followed and bustled past them as she made her way back to the cluster of staff in the back.

When she had gone, Ron pushed her quickly into a corner and leaned close.

"Ron!" she cried, pushing his chest roughly. "The professors, they'll see!"

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, they won't."

"Yes they will!" Hermione was frantic as she took another fistful of his jumper and tried to move them into the open.

Ron however, was not moving. He reached for her hand that was clutching him so tightly and yanked it off, then held it gently between his own. "Hermione," he said, smiling, "You, were_ brilliant_."

She felt her stomach drop pleasantly. She bit her lip to hide a smile. Despite her complete and total embarrassment, she couldn't help but feel a _little_ prideful that Ron admired her so. Suddenly she was out of breath again.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Ron grinned. "And I don't just mean with McGonagall."

Her mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly, eliciting a chuckle from Ron. Had he _really_ just said that?

The way he was staring at her made her crazy. She imagined this is what it felt like to be seduced by a veela.

Ron was smiling at her so fondly she could nearly burst. "Be my girlfriend," he said warmly, and casually as if he was saying, "Split half of my cauldron cake?"

"W-what?" she asked automatically, still not caught up with her ears. The dance she could accept, the kiss she would believe by the end of the term, but she would never come to believe that Ron Weasley actually wanted her for a girlfriend. "But Ron," she stammered nervously, "the teachers, they—"

"They what? Know we're kissing? Lavender and Seamus get caught every day, no one cares."

Hermione couldn't comprehend this. Since when had he wanted her this desperately? Since when had _anyone_ felt this way about her? "But it's so new and what if you decide—"

"I don't want anyone else," he said as if the idea was laughable. "Hermione, I haven't wanted anyone else since I clamped eyes on you."

She snorted. "And I suppose making my cry in the girl's bathroom was just a way to show your affection?"

He smiled at her. "Fine, it took me a while, but Hermione, I wouldn't have kissed you like that if I wasn't sure that it was you who I wanted."

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "Ron, I don't know what to say…"

"Say yes!" he said happily, squeezing her hand even harder.

Yet, for some reason it wasn't that easy. There were ten things on the tip of Hermione's tongue, and _yes_ was not one of them. Not yet. She opened her mouth to speak, but the look in his eyes stole her voice, and not to mention her heart, which was beating so hard she was amazed it hadn't burst out of her chest.

"Ron…" she started, finding sound at last. His smile was fading slowly, and the flush in his cheeks was growing more intense.

_Why_ was it so hard to say yes? What was she afraid of?

"Ron, I—"

"_There_ you guys are!"

Hermione gasped, audibly and whipped her head around to see Harry, standing beside them. He placed a hand on Ron's arm and tilted his head back towards their table. "Come on, where have you guys been? Seamus just told us the funniest thing about Draco!"

She started nodding, eagerly, trying to look interested, while also attempting to tug her hand free from Ron's grasp. He held it steady, however, as his gaze still lingered on her, burning holes into the side of her skull.

"What did he say?" she asked, smiling.

Harry was eyeing Ron oddly and he tugged on his jumper sleeve. "Seamus has to tell it, it's hilarious."

Ron stood his ground as Harry and Hermione repeatedly yanked on his limbs. Hermione met his gaze briefly and pursed her lips, trying to send messages with her eyes as she flicked them quickly at Harry.

"Guys," Harry said quietly, and when she looked at him she saw his eyes rest on their struggling hands. "Listen," Harry continued, smiling sheepishly, "if you want to go back out there and finish up your discussion…"

Suddenly Ron let go of her hand, yet she kept it up in the air, frozen with terror.

What did he just say?

Ron's eyebrows had nearly collided with his hairline. "W-What're you talking about?" he asked, voice high pitched and breathy, and Hermione inwardly groaned. If that hadn't confirmed Harry's observation, she didn't know what would.

Harry tried to hide a smile. "You guys _were_ up against the window, you know."

Hermione heard Ron choke and start coughing loudly, but that was nothing compared to her strangled shriek. She slapped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes were burning and her skin was scalding. This. Could. Not. Happen. Not tonight. Not _ever_!

She looked around cautiously, eyeing several students' raised eyebrows. They didn't even look surprised at all! Her shriek hadn't fazed them one bit. They stared on as if they were expecting this...as if they wanted it to happen. In fact, most of the students were smiling…_knowingly_! What was it with them? Why did they even care what happened between she and Ron?

Then, a low, drawling voice rose over the music, which, in Hermione's opinion, had practically ceased to silence. Her heart was racing frantically. No, not Malfoy, not now. They would be the laughing stock of the whole castle. She swallowed. The whole _Ministry_ would probably find out as well, which meant Ron's mother and father, and the twins…

Suddenly Hermione felt like she was going to vomit.

"So the pauper and the mudblood," Malfoy shouted unnecessarily. "How touching. Right out of a bloody muggle fairy book." She could see him from where he stood, arms crossed, and blonde hair dangling over his forehead. Pansy Parkinson was dangling off him like a monkey and smiling as though it was her business as well. He smirked wickedly and continued. "But then, you'd know loads about those, wouldn't you Granger? Probably had your dirty little nose buried in them since you were old enough to walk. Funny, isn't it? Your dirty blood is about as clean as the Weasley's shack, so I guess you two will get along fine."

Ron had practically reached Draco by the time Harry snatched his fists and thrown him back to where they stood. Hermione barely even noticed as Ron's lunging body made her stumble over her own feet. She didn't care what he did. She didn't care about anything anymore. As far as she was concerned, this night was ruined and she needed to leave. _Now_.

Hermione took a step back, hand groping for the door handle. Her knees were shaking and she was sure she was practically maroon in the face. No one seemed to notice however, as the door creaked open and the bells on the wall jingled. Ron was still struggling against Harry, and everyone else was laughing or jeering at Draco as he curled his lip at Ron. A few of the girls lifted their hands and pointed at her as she cleared the threshold and slipped on the icy porch. The door closed behind her eventually and she stumbled down the steps, feet sinking into the slow up to her ankles. She had forgotten her cloak again, but she didn't care this time either. Hermione clutched her arms desperately as she hurried back to Hogwarts.

Her breath was puffing like the smoke stack on the Hogwarts Express and tears fell onto her jumper like raindrops. She trembled violently as she fought of shiver and sobs. A few of the villagers turned around and watched her pass, and she herd soft mutterings of, "_Come in for a butterbeer, dear_," or "_Don't you want a scarf_?"

She tuned them out and focused on the rhythmic crunching of her feet in the snow. She rounded the corner off the main road and back towards the castle, passing the Shrieking Shack on the way. The frame of the old house was swallowed up in the dark trees but she knew it was there. The damp, creaking wood echoed over the mounds of snow.

Thinking about the Shack reminded her of how stupid she was, walking alone, at night, in the darkness, given the present circumstances. Hermione pushed it aside however, as she convinced herself that she was allowed one to two slip ups every now and then. Besides, she had lost control of her actions very few times when it came to controlling her teenage hormones. And _this_ was certainly one of those times.

Hermione pushed those thoughts away and started thinking about the shrieking shack again, and about how brave Ron had been. She could still see his terrified face as he reached up to her and Harry from the hole in the base of the Whomping Willow. Later, as they'd helped him back out again, she remembered how firmly his jaw had been clenched. The pain must have been horrible, but he had swallowed it so calmly, which was rather unlike him. Sometimes, when she let her mind wander far enough, she liked to pretend he had done it for her.

Now, after the events of tonight, she hoped that maybe he had done it for her after all.

The large gates of Hogwarts loomed over her as she walked between them. The snow was falling harder now and she was relieved she was in the grounds. The golden lights from the castle glowed from ahead and she broke into a slight run to get to them sooner.

When she reached the massive oak doors, she slipped inside quickly; more than ready to feel the comfort one associates with _warmth_. However, as she turned the lean against the door behind her, she saw that she was not alone.

Luna Lovegood stood in the middle of the entrance hall; arm raised over her head as she uncoiled a rather long scarf from her thin, spindly neck. As always, her wand was tucked behind her ear, and her long blonde hair hung loose and dripping at her back. All the while her hand circled above her head and more and more of the brightly colored scarf piled on the marble floor.

"Hi Luna," Hermione managed, trying to be polite, yet hating Luna immensely for even _being_ there.

Luna gasped, yet gazed slowly in Hermione's direction, as if she hadn't heard the fifteen foot tall door open at all. "Oh," she murmured in her low, raspy voice, "hello Hermione." Her name tumbled off Luna's tongue with distaste, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

She started making her way up the stairs without another word. She was convinced the night could not get any worse until Luna's voice echoed at her back again. "If I were you," she said slowly, "I would have kissed him loads better, you know."

Her heart stopped. What _was_ this! Hermione whirled around, and glared and Luna menacingly. She wanted nothing more than to sprout a beak out of her stupid squashed up nose. Her fingers tightened threateningly on her wand.

"That's just me though," Luna echoed, lifted her arm once more to unravel her scarf once more.

"Oh," Hermione said through her teeth. "Go lick a niffler!"

Then, after meeting Luna's wide, insulted eyes, Hermione sprinted upstairs to Gryffindor tower, looking forward to a gut wrenching cry on her bed. She was relieved no one was coming back for a while. She didn't feel very much like retelling the story of her night to the likes of Lavender and Parvati.

At last she slammed the door behind her and collapsed heavily on her mattress. She didn't even have time to close her bed hangings before the sobs raked through her body. She was _so_ embarrassed.

Crookshanks mewed quietly from the foot of her bed, and she felt him curl up at her side. The faithful cat comforted her slightly, but no more than that. She was too ashamed for words. How had a perfect night gone so wrong?

She thought about how lovely Ron had been and how amazing it had felt to kiss him. With a pang she realized she had never answered his question. She cried even harder as she realized she still didn't know what to say.

It seemed like ages had passed when Hermione woke up later that night. She could hear slow breaths all around her, and she realized at last, that everyone was back from Hogsmede. The skin around her eyes was swollen and blotchy, and her eyes burned as she tried to close them again and fall back asleep. She could hear Crookshanks purring as he lay in a ball at her hip. The small fire grate in their room was hissing slightly, as the embers began to die.

All the noises echoed loudly in her ears, and with a heavy sigh, she rolled out of bed and changed into her pajamas. Hermione looked around the room slowly, noting Lavender and Parvati's hangings were closed, and their party clothes were piled beside their beds. The sick feelings trickled back inside her stomach and she couldn't help but wonder what on earth she and Ron had looked like through that window.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush. After all, that hadn't been just any kiss, and no matter what stupid Loony Lovegood said, she had kissed him just fine.

She sighed softly, and dropped her hands into the pockets of her dressing gown. She missed Ron. He must have been miserable walking back from the castle with everyone laughing at his heels. She should have stayed…

When turned back to the bed, she found Crookshanks uncurling himself across her quilt. His claws kneaded the bed sheets and she scowled at him.

"_Fine_," she hissed. "I'm not tired anyway."

She stormed out of the dormitory and down to the deserted common room where the fire was also dying. She settled herself into the sofa nearest the hearth and tucked her bare feet between the cushions. With a sigh, she let her head fall back. Even though the end of the night had been beyond horrid, Hermione couldn't forget the beginning, which involved Ron asking her to dance, kissing her, and asking her to be his girlfriend. A smile played on her lips. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and shut her eyes, pretending she was back out on the snowy porch, being held by her favorite person as he told her she deserved more than any boy.

And the way he'd looked! A shiver ran down her spine. He was _so_ handsome.

Then, she remembered his voice as he had said, "_Be my girlfriend._" It wasn't even a question, it was a statement, and it was so romantic.

The smile faded from her lips.

She hadn't answered. Hermione had changed the outcome thousands of times in her head, but the reality was still the same.

She had not said yes, and after everything that had happened, she was not Ron's girlfriend. As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione was sure she had lost her chance.

Just then the boys' dormitory door creaked open, and as she whirled her head over the top of the sofa to see who it was, she was more than pleased to see two pale, freckly feet peeking out from a pair of flannel pajama pants.

Ron stood, squinting her direction from the doorway. "Hermione?" he asked softly, craning his neck to see her.

"Yes," she said back, even softer.

"Oh good," he said, and she felt relieved suddenly. He shut the door behind him and ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way towards her sofa, perched so wonderfully by the fire.

She watched his every move until he finally sank slowly down beside her. The smell of him wafted to her nose as the air rose from the cushions. Her heart was racing.

He looked over at her with his steely eyes and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. If he only knew what he was doing to her. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and she could see the faint scars that twisted up his arms. She hadn't seen them in nearly a year and the thought of his helpless body strangling on the ground made a lump rise in her throat.

Ron seemed to notice her gaze eventually, and tugged his sleeves back down as far as they would go. "Neville turned the fire up. It's hot as Egypt in there."

Normally she would have laughed, but the guilt had taken over her body. She merely nodded.

"How are you doing?" Ron asked quietly. She watched, in awe, as his hand lifted from his lap and settled on her knee. "You ran away and I couldn't catch up in time to check up on you."

Hermione's heart was in her throat. Catch up with her? Then that must mean he chased after her…

"I…" she seemed to choke on her voice. Well she certainly _wasn't_ fine. She was better now that he was here, but not all the way.

His fingers squeezed her knee gently. "Are you okay?" he asked again, only this time his eyes were genuinely reflecting concern.

"I'm-I'm sorry," Hermione blurted at last, looking up at him and feeling the tears fill her eyes.

Ron squeezed her knee again. "Sorry? For what?"

Her chin was trembling and she grit her teeth. Why did she always get so emotional? "I'm sorry for not answering you, and for leaving. I was just so embarrassed." She was wringing her hands in her lap now.

He moved a bit closer. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. Draco's a git and he made me embarrassed to. I left right after you did, you know."

She wanted to mumble, _Did you see Luna, then?_ But didn't.

"But I should have answered you."

To her surprise, Ron chuckled lightly. "I've had worse rejections."

"I wasn't rejecting you!" Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. "At least, I don't think I was." She sighed angrily and tugged at her hair. "I don't _want_ to," she said firmly, looking away.

"What do you mean?"

Her heart gave a loud thump and a few tears fell from her eyes. "I couldn't say yes because I was afraid."

There, she said it. She hadn't even been sure if it was the right answer, until the words left her lips. She _was_ afraid. She was afraid of losing everything.

"Afraid…of me?" he asked, leaning close. "Hermione I would never—"

"Not you," she said, grabbing a bit of his pajamas. "Never you."

Ron gave a weak smile.

Hermione felt her voice tremble. Even thinking about it was hard. "I'm afraid of losing a friend."

Ron's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"I can live with sacrificing a boyfriend in order to keep a best friend, but I couldn't possibly live after losing you as both." Hermione looked away quickly, in order to hide several more tears that escaped her eyelids.

She heard Ron suck in a breath at her words, wondering if he was afraid of the same thing.

"Hermione," he said softly, and she jumped as his hand slowly cupped her face. He guided her eyes to his, while brushing away her tears with his thumb. Her skin shuddered. "I could never put you in that position. If I lost you as a friend I wouldn't survive either."

She swallowed.

"But, you should know, I don't really intend on ever having to deal with that sort of sorrow."

Hermione felt the blood thundering in her ears.

"I wasn't planning on ever losing you, if that's all right with you…"

They looked at one another for a moment, and she felt warm and comforted. The fire had been dark in the fireplace for some time now, yet she had never been more comfortable. Hermione drew several shaky breaths as she fought hard with the waterfall that was acting as her eyes. His hand was still moving over her face slightly. He caught a few of her tears on his thumb and brushed them aside.

"Aren't you afraid of anything?" she asked, noting how small her voice sounded.

Ron smiled fondly at her. "McGonagall, and Snape, even though I pretend not to be."

"I'm serious," Hermione said sternly. "Between us, I meant."

His face softened and he shook his head slowly.

Hermione felt her eyes widen. "Nothing?"

Ron shrugged. "I have my worries sometimes, mostly about me being too big of a git and hurting your feelings, or letting you down with my marks."

She rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Hermione, at first I was worried about if you really felt the same way that I did, but after we kissed tonight, I was sure that the feelings you had out on that porch were just about as old as mine." He smiled. "That's why I asked you out so quickly. I guess I assumed you'd want that. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

As Hermione looked at him, a new sort of feeling dawned in her brain. Ron was sitting with her, after all that had happened, and he was smiling at her as if he had never wanted anyone more. He had chosen to walk down the stairs from his warm bed and try and comfort her. Ron Weasley truly did care about her, and as much as she tried to convince herself that she had known that, Hermione Granger realized she had underestimated him.

She smiled back at him and leaned forward, pressing all of her weight and her heart into his body, because at last, she knew that he was willing to support it. His arm wrapped snuggly around her shoulder and squeezed. Hermione smiled into the flannel of his shirt. Suddenly, Hermione had never been surer of anything.

"Yes," she said softly, more into his skin than out loud.

"What?"

She lifted her head high enough to meet his eyes. "Yes," she said again.

Ron looked at her for a moment with his lovely eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. She knew he _hated_ when she was vague, but he deserved it at this point. Hermione felt suddenly brave as she scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his front. She moved close to his ear and whispered softly, "Ask me the question about being your girlfriend again."

The words had punctured Ron's brain, she was sure, but the sensation of her whispered breaths against his ear had obviously done a number on his reflexes. He sucked in a deep, quick breath as she spoke and clutched her shoulder with more intensity. When Hermione pulled back far enough to meet his eyes, he was grinning.

He moved his hand back to her face and slid his fingers into her hair. "I have a better idea."

Hermione gasped slightly as he pulled her closer still, right towards his lovely parted lips. She didn't object as he let his hand fall from her shoulder to the curve of her hip, or when he half lifted her into his lap. She settled comfortably against Ron, kissing him all the while, and feeling completely satisfied at last. The night, to say the least, had been incredibly eventful. She'd been asked to dance, kissed in the moonlight, and completely humiliated. But she'd learned something else as well, which was perhaps the most desired thing in the entire world. Hermione Granger had learned that the young man in whom she had invested her heart, had, in fact, been pining for her all along.

When the kiss broke, she settled her head on his shoulder without a word, feeling completely safe and oddly whole. Ron's fingers were moving up and down her back, sending tiny tingles to her toes.

"Ron," she whispered into the darkness that had consumed the common room.

He lowered his head so his lips moved against her forehead. "Yes."

Hermione smiled to herself. "Thank you."

There was silence for a moment. "For what?"

"For asking me to dance."

Ron chuckled through his nose and pressed his lips to her skin. "Thank yourself," he said. "It was your idea, remember?"

She bit her bottom lip and tried to hide a guilty smile. And to think, not so long ago, she had actually regretted saying those things.

The next morning, deep in the bustle and clatter of the Great Hall, Hermione found she did not care what the students thought about her and Ron. In fact, she pretended she didn't notice them at all. Out of the corner of her eye she could see fellow Griffindors leaning over the breakfast to catch a glimpse of her, or Ron. Several Hufflepuffs were on their tip toes, looking over the Ravenclaw table.

"Just ignore them," Ron said, leaning her direction.

She continued buttering her toast. "Ignore who?"

They grinned at one another.

Harry, who sat on Ron's other side, had not mentioned the events of the previous night, and she suspected Ron had told him what had happened, but he still hadn't said a word. He smiled at them from where he sat as she placed a piece of toast on Ron's plate and Ron, in turn, poured milk on her cereal.

All in all, everything had turned out better than the day before. _That_ was an outcome Hermione never saw coming.

She looked up, and through Dean and Neville who were sitting across from her. Draco sat glumly at the Slytherin table, chin resting in his hands. She was unsure what his problem was, until she saw Pansy Parkinson stand up from the table with another boy, clutching his arm in a death grip, and sending daggers at Draco with her narrowed eyes.

Hermione smiled widely, convinced that, at last, the day could not get any better.

"What is it?" she heard at her ear, as Ron took her hand under the table. They wove their fingers together gently and Hermione could feel her pulse beat rapidly in her skull. Could she ever tire of this?

She looked back at Draco, hating him, and yet loving him for his stupid disappointment. She assumed Ron would have no idea who Draco was with the night before, and of course, would get much more pleasure punching him off his feet, than seeing him completely rejected.

Hermione met Ron's gaze and smiled. "Nothing, just really happy, that's all."

Ron grinned back. "Me too."

They looked at each other, blushing and smiling, and looking completely ridiculous. She saw several more heads turn in their direction.

"Want me to walk you to Arithmancy? If we leave now I can make it to Care of Magical Creatures in time."

She looked over his shoulder at Harry's empty seat. "Where's Harry?" she asked, moving to look over Ron's other shoulder. She saw Harry near the door, where he turned around, smiled and waved, then continued into the entrance hall.

Ron was still smiling when she settled back down. "It was his idea, actually."

Hermione sighed, reveling in the large amount of fluttering butterflies in her stomach. If this was how it would be forever, than she never wanted to miss a day. "I'd like that," she said, standing up from the table.

Ron followed suit and held out his hand. "Come on then, if we hurry the hall might be empty."

"_Ron_!" she hissed as he lead her between the tables and towards the door.

He shrugged. "Got to find time, love, or else I might just die before the day is over."

Hermione snorted and pinched his arm. "Then you'd better find a spell to keep you alive—"

She was thrust, suddenly, behind a statue of a huge, ugly toll.

"Or," Ron corrected, pointing a finger at her, "I could thrust you behind Brutus the ugly and stupid, and snog you senseless."

Hermione let Ron press against her and sandwich her into the wall. "I thought wanted to make it to Care of Magical Creatures on time?"

Ron was smiling. "I think Hagrid'll understand."

Her giggle was muffled by Ron's lips, and as much as she was petrified of being caught, she found she would rather miss class than be parted from Ron.

Madonna started playing in her head again and she wanted to sing along with her, at the top of her lungs, for all the school to see. _This_, was heaven, and she, Hermione Granger was crazy for Ron Weasley.

And it was all so perfect…

A/N: Yay! I finally finished it before HBP! Please read, and quickly! This is my last shot before the book comes out. Hopefully by the end, it'll be able to fit in there somewhere. Please, by all means, leave your reviews and let me know what you think. For all of you who plan on pouncing on the book, enjoy, good luck, and hopefully it'll all end up like we want: FULL OF RON AND HERMIONE GOODNESS! Thanks for reading!


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